Community remembers a beloved rabbi

It wasn't just the way his green eyes sparkled when he greeted you with that big, welcoming smile that people recalled.

Nor was it the bright red crop of hair that framed his ruddy face, or the musical lilt of his soft Irish brogue as he delivered a prayer or blessing.

More than his striking physical countenance, what people remember most about Rabbi Ivan Wachmann was his goodness, his willingness to reach out to anyone in need, his compassion and love for his fellow man. Wachmann was so revered, his Shabbat services often drew followers from areas outside of Broward County, including Palm Beach County.

Sadly, a sizable crowd of congregants and friends of "Rabbi Ivan," former rabbi of Temple Sholom in Pompano Beach, gathered together last week at the synagogue he served for 15 years to remember and honor the memory of Wachmann, who died on March 13, in Eilat, Israel at age 77.

"This will be a celebration of our beloved Ivan Wachmann's life," said Bernie Arnold, temple president, and the person instrumental in bringing Wachmann to Pompano Beach from England.

Cantor Hesh Mayersdorf, who Wachmann hired as temple cantor, recalled their first meeting.

"We schmoozed like friends. After an hour, it was as if we knew each other for years," he said. "We shared lots of laughter. Music was a big part of both our lives."

Longtime friend, Terri Lynn said Rabbi Wachmann was a "guiding force in our lives and helped us over and over again."

Myra Jacobson, Wachmann's sister-in-law, said, "All he wanted to do was to help people. We are richer for having known such a wonderful man."

John Johnson, executive vice president of Holy Cross Hospital in Pompano Beach, and where Wachmann served as a board member, brought a moment of levity during the somber memorial by relating an anecdote about Wachmann.

"He was never short of words. [Rabbi Wachmann] once told me, 'Some say I kissed the Blarney Stone, but that's not true — I swallowed it,' Johnson said of Wachmann, which brought laughter. "Every one of us was better for having known him."

Wachmann's life story reads like a movie script. His father, an Orthodox rabbi fleeing the pogroms of Russia, got off the boat in Ireland by mistake, thinking he had landed in New York. His father settled down in Dublin with its large Jewish community that numbered in the thousands. Among his father's closest friends was Robert Briscoe, an ardent IRA supporter who subsequently became the first Jewish mayor of Dublin.

In fact, Wachmann loved to tell the story of how his father once hid a group of IRA volunteers in his basement, including Briscoe, during the Irish War of Independence in the early 1920s when the English Black and Tans were searching the neighborhood for them.

In another chapter of his life, Wachmann was once chaplain at an infamous English prison. He was there only a short time when the prisoners staged a riot over the "lousy food." Wachmann was called upon to act as intermediary to quell the riot, which he did, "with great trepidation." When the prisoners saw the special, kosher meals the Jewish prisoners were served, as Wachmann told it, "You wouldn't believe all the requests I received for conversion."

Though Judaism and Israel were paramount in his life, Wachmann never forgot the land of his birth and his Irish roots. Every St. Patrick's Day, he would host an "Irish Breakfast" for his congregants — complete with green bagels and green cream cheese. Rabbi Ivan would greet his guests dressed in green tie and jacket, topped off with an enormous green "Leprechaun" hat on his head. Then, with his beautiful voice, he would lead everybody in a heartfelt version of, "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling."

Father Foudy of St. Coleman's Church, who knew Wachmann for more than 20 years, spoke at the memorial.

"I was closer to Rabbi Wachmann than I was to my own brother," he said. "He was a dear friend — he was loyal, true and dedicated. Till we meet again, may the Lord hold you in the hollow of His hand."